


Hate you or wish to hate you

by Beezel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Graphic Description of Corpses, Homophobia, Homophobic characters, Hurt/Comfort, Insults, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please Don't Kill Me, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sam Wilson makes Bucky drool, Slow Burn, like really slow burn, the Wilson family - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:29:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22691800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beezel/pseuds/Beezel
Summary: Post-Endgame Sam and Bucky try to rebuild their lifes in a society that has changed. They become close and Bucky has to admit to himself that he is totally head over heels for Sam. And Sam? He thinks that Bucky is a surprisingly nice guy but... Sam is NOT gay. He has never even kissed a man before.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers (mentioned)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 84





	1. One

The first time Sam Wilson had seen Steve Rogers aka Captain America had been in 2012 on TV. He and the other Avengers had been fighting Loki and his alien army. That was almost six _– dammit – eleven_ years ago. Sam still didn’t get used to the fact that he hadn’t been existing during the past five years.

The first time he had talked to Steve Rogers was at the National Mall, six months after Loki’s attack. The super soldier had passed him three times that morning. Steve Rogers is a little shit.

The first time Sam had fought alongside with Steve as The Falcon had only been a few days after.

The first time he had called himself an Avenger was eight years ago after the Ultron-incident. He remembered having mixed feelings about it. At least at the very beginning. When he was on the run with Steve, he practically didn’t think at all. Maybe he should have… However, Sam didn’t regret his decision to follow Steve but looking back they could have handled it way more tactfully.

Then they had fought Thanos. They had lost and half of the universe had turned to dust. Including Sam. Waking up in the Wakandan dirt (which was 72 hours ago) had felt like he had just taken a five-minute-nap. The idea that five years had passed in what felt like a blink of an eye still seemed fucked up.

Considering what had happened to him in the past few years he should have already been dead at this point. But here he was. In a two-star double-bedded hotel room. Sitting on an uncomfortable mattress with some suspicious stains on it. Barnes laid next to Sam facing away from him. He was reading a book which he had found in the nightstand when they had arrived. Sam wondered how the man managed to just lay there for hours without moving except for the occasional turn of a page which was apart from the whirring sound of the AC in the bathroom the only sound filling the room. His back hurt already at the sight of it.

Then Sam’s eyes darted back to the star-spangled shield he had been starring at for the past two hours. He still couldn’t believe what his best friend had done. On their way to the hotel Barnes had told him that Steve went back because of his old flame Peggy Carter. But that was… weird because, firstly, he had never really talked about her and secondly, she was the grand aunt of Sharon with whom Steve had a thing as well.

Oh god, Sharon was his grandniece now, what the fuck?!

On the other hand, this had probably been Steve’s only chance to get away from this superhero stuff and live a normal life. Clint was the best counter example. He lived almost completely isolated with his family to keep them from danger.

He would have just stay there in the hotel room and starved to death when Barnes’ super soldier stomach hadn’t let out a loud grumble.

“What time is it?” the brunette asked.

Sam turned to look at the digital clock on his nightstand. “Almost 8 pm,” he answered, and the other man just hummed quietly.

“Steve has reserved a table in this small ground-floor restaurant for 8 pm.”

“Let’s go then,” said Sam, “I don’t wanna come across ungrateful since he’s paying for our room.”

“Yeah, okay.”

When they entered the diner Sam almost didn’t recognize the now old man. He was sitting at the other end of the room with a bottle of beer in hand.

“Hello Sam, Buck,” greeted the man with a big smile on his face.

“Hey there, Stevie,” said Barnes taking the seat next to the former Avenger. Sam sat down across from them.

“Here you go,” Steve reached to the other end of the table and handed them each a menu, “just order whatever you want. I’ll pay.”

“Hey man, that’s not necessary. I can pay for my own food,” protested Sam but the old man just raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

“Of course,” Sam showed him his credit card.

“It won’t work. They blocked our credit cards when we were on the run, remember?” the old man said.

“Oh shit, yeah, you’re right,” said Sam and continued reading the menu. Eventually, he settled on French fries and a small salad. He didn’t want his food to be too expensive.

The waitress, a teenage girl, came. “Good evening, gentlemen. What can I do for you?” she said friendly.

Steve was the first one to order. “I’ll have the big self-made salad with salmon and bacon, please. And another beer.” He pointed at his empty bottle.

“Okay” The girl turned to look at Sam.

“French fries with a small salad and a beer for me, please,” he said. Barnes ordered a cheeseburger and the same beer as Sam and Steve.

Food and drinks arrived quickly as there were only a few costumers in the restaurant. Sam watched Barnes take a big bite from his burger and start chewing loudly.

“Stop! That’s disgusting!”

Barnes didn’t even bother swallowing before replying sarcastically, “Oh, I’m sorry that I’ve only eaten a cereal bar in the past few days!”

“Why the fuck did you only eat a cereal bar?!” asked Sam, “They served soup after the battle!”

“They did?”

“Yes, they did.”

“Well…” Barnes shrugged and continued eating just as noisily as before.

“You eat like an animal.”

The brunette looked up from his plate and took a quick swig from his beer. A smug grin formed on his lips as he replied, “I’m the White Wolf, remember?”

“Oh yeah, and this is why they call you that!” Sam answered just as sassy and watched satisfied how the smile on Barnes’ lips faded just a little bit. He opened his mouth but then he turned to Steve who managed to eat his food in a very civilized way.

“I don’t interfere,” the old man said lifting both his hands.

Eventually they continued eating. By the time they were finished Steve went to the counter and ordered a bottle of scotch for the three of them.

“Hey Sam,” whispered Barnes across the table.

“Hm?” Sam pushed his plate to the side and leaned forward.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I dunno. Can you?” he replied smugly and watched the brunette role his eyes.

“After Stark’s funeral Shuri asked me to come visit her in Wakanda. She wants to take another look at my arm. That’s why I will go there tomorrow morning,” Barnes explained.

“Yeah, okay but where’s the question?”

Barnes sighed accepting a glass filled with scotch from Steve who just returned from the counter. He emptied it in one go. “I wanted to ask you, if you wanna come with me.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Sam asked taking his own glass, “Should I hold your hand while the princess plays around with your arm?”

The brown-haired super soldier pursed his lips and refilled his glass. “No, I thought maybe Shuri could improve your equipment, now that you’re Captain America. But if you really want to hold hands… Ain’t no objections.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. Next to Barnes, Steve, the old little shit, giggled shaking his head.

Sam looked him dead in the eye but then he looked back at Barnes and said, “I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” said the other man and a small smile that almost looked honest sneaked on his face.

Almost four hours and another bottle of scotch later, the men decided that it would be best to go upstairs and sleep. While he awkwardly dragged Barnes, who was fully drunk at this point up to their room Sam was wondering how he even got in this situation. Well, obviously it was impossible for a normal human being to not be wasted after drinking a whole bottle of scotch (for whatever reason he did that) but Barnes _was not normal_. He was a super soldier just like Steve who, by the way, had also been drinking a lot and still managed to walk by himself. At the very beginning none of them had noticed how much Barnes had drunk until after the seventh or eighth glass the alcohol finally kicked in. At first, he had been just quiet but then he became very talkative which was weird because Barnes never _talked._ When he eventually laid down on the bench where he was sitting with Steve and probably even fell asleep for a few minutes they decided it would be best to call it a night.

When they finally arrived at their room Sam immediately dropped the brunette super soldier, who was just as heavy as expected, on the bed. He cursed and rubbed his neck where Barnes’ arm had been slung around and looked down at the other man who had somehow managed to kick of his shoes and crawl under the stained blanket.

“We should do that again,” he murmured, and Sam couldn’t keep himself from letting out a small chuckle. The sight that was offered to him was just too bizarre to stay serious: The Winter Soldier, curled up in a blanket with only one foot hanging off the bed and his dark messy hair splayed out on the too soft pillow.

“Hm, sure,” he answered and went to bathroom to prep for bed. By the time he came back to the main room, Barnes was already snoring quietly. Sam took off his clothes except for his boxer shorts because geez, that would have been very awkward, and then laid down as well while trying not to get too close to the other man.

The soft regular noises that were coming from Barnes rocked Sam to sleep in less than five minutes. Or maybe it was just the buzz from the alcohol… It wasn’t like Sam had drunk nothing…

Sam was woken up by the soft sunlight that gleamed through the half-opened curtain. By the time his got used to the brightness of the room he looked around. Barnes hadn’t moved an inch and he was still snoring peacefully. Sam almost felt bad when he bent down to get closer to the super soldier’s ear and sang loudly, “JUST CALL ME ANGEL OF THE MORNING, ANGEEEL!”

The brunette startled. “What the- _shit_!” he yelled and rubbed his head. Sam assumed that the man was hungover which would be no surprise…

“JUST TOUCH MY CHEEK BEFORE YOU LEAVE ME, BABYYYY!” he continued, encouraged by Barnes’ swearing. “You got a headache?”

“Fuck off,” the former soldier groaned and buried his face under the pillow.

Sam looked at the clock. 8.47 am. “Get up!”, he said, getting dressed, “We agreed to meet Steve at nine, remember?”

“No, why?”

“Because Steve’s gonna buy us food,” said Sam and then added, “He said they sell the best self-made donuts down at the café.”

When Barnes still didn’t make no move to get up Sam grabbed his blanket and pulled it away in one go. The brunette yelped and reached blindly for the blanket. He jumped up but then he tripped over his shoes and dropped to the floor with a thud. Sighing, he just stayed there, and Sam laughed.

“Do they coffee?”

“I’m pretty sure they do,” answered Sam.

With another groan Barnes sat up, reached for his shoes and pulled his long locks up into a lose bun. “Okay, let’s go.”

“There you are,” they were greeted by Steve as soon as they entered the café. He had already ordered bagels and coffee for them. At the sight of Barnes, who practically inhaled his first two cups of the hot liquid, the old man raised an eyebrow. “So, how’s your head, Buck?” he asked with a smirk.

“Shut the hell your mouth, Stevie,” the brown-haired ex-assassin murmured.

“Now, now. Got a mouth on you,” Steve blamed him, but the smile still stayed on his face.

“You know, Steve doesn’t like this kind of language,” Sam mocked.

“Oh yeah?” Barnes dared, “Because as far as I remember, Steve always swears like a sailor.”

“Could you please stop and just eat?” the old man said, annoyance ringing through his voice, “Bagels are gonna get cold.”

“So, I overheard your conversation yesterday,” Steve started by the time they were finished eating, “Why are going to Wakanda?”

“Shuri wants to check my arm. She said that there might be something wrong with it,” Barnes explained looking down at the clothed prosthetic. “A Dora Milaje will pick us up at the airport at eleven.”

“Today?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Stevie, I completely forgot to tell you that,” the brunette said.

“It’s okay,” the old man said calmly, “I wouldn’t be able to pay for your food and your room much longer, anyway.”

“What are you gonna do when we go?” asked Sam.

“I think that I’ll just stay at my granddaughter’s, for a few days. She’s gonna have her first child very soon,” Steve explained, and Sam couldn’t help but smile at the proud look on the other man’s face.

“Oh my God, Stevie, that’s awesome!” Barnes said.

Sam clapped the former Avenger on the shoulder. “Congratulations, Steve!”

“Thank you, boys. That means a lot to me,” the old man smiled.

They drank the rest of the coffee and then Sam and Bucky went back to their hotel to get all their stuff (fortunately they didn’t really have much) and to check out. In the meantime, Steve had gone to a pharmacy and bought a box of headache pills for Barnes. Later he picked them up in a blue Volkswagen Beetle that almost looked like that thing he had drove back in 2016 when they had been on the run. _Seriously, Steve, why?_ Though it turned out that it was a good idea to drive in this incredibly small car since the streets were full. Steve explained that everybody was on their way to meet their family and friends, if they had lost them after the snap.

They arrived at the airport just in time. They said goodbye to each other, and Sam promised to call Steve once they would be in Wakanda.

“Are we good to go?” asked the Dora Milaje who had been waiting beside the Wakandan jet.

“Yes, sure, let’s go,” said Sam and they entered the plane.


	2. Two

They arrived in Wakanda about only one hour later, thanks to the Wakandan high-tech-slash-speed jet. The sun was already low in the sky, due to the time difference. Shuri was awaiting them in the landing zone of Mount Bashenga accompanied by a few footmen and Dora Milaje.

“Hello Bucky,” the young woman greeted as soon as they exited the jet. She turned to Sam. “Mr Wilson, I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Your Majesty,” said Sam fighting the urge to bow before the princess, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a bother but that guy over there,” he pointed at Barnes who stood next to him, “needed someone to hold his hand while You,” he hesitated, “do whatever You need to do with him.” From the side, he saw the other man’s brows knit together while Shuri seemed to fight a laugh.

“Don’t worry. We have rooms for both of you in the west wing,” she explained. “Unless,” she glanced at Barnes,” you’d prefer to visit your goats, Bucky.”

“They still alive?” the brunette asked, obviously ignoring Sam’s confusion.

“Of course. Malika took care of them, Okoye told me,” the princess said.

“What goats?” Sam asked, not standing being the only one who didn’t know what they were talking about.

“My goats,” Barnes explained.

“You have goats?!”

“Well… I did until Thanos came and I had to get back in the field.” The brunette made a thoughtful face. “Might go see ‘em if I can...”

“We won’t stop you,” Shuri said, “Except for tomorrow since the surgical procedure is scheduled then.”

“S-surgical procedure?” Barnes stammered, his discomfort seeming to project on Sam as well.

“Well…” the smile on Shuri’s face stiffened, “let’s talk about this later, okay?”

They went downstairs to the princess’ lab as their stuff was brought to their rooms by the footmen.

“Hey, folks!” they were greeted by a cheery voice.

Sam turned. “Bruce! Good to see you, man!” he greeted the doctor.

“Hi, Bruce,” Barnes said, and Sam wondered when the two men had gotten to a first-name basis.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

“Well, actually I’m here because of you,” Bruce answered. Sam rose his brows and he continued, “Since you’re Captain America now you might as well need a new suit.”

“Who said that I’m Captain America?” Sam asked.

“Um, I saw how Steve gave you the Shield… and… well, he told me so himself afterwards…” Bruce whispered, “So, you don’t want anyone to know?”

“For now, rather not,” Sam admitted, “I have to get used to it myself at first.”

The green doctor nodded understandingly.

“Bucky and I are going for a walk so you two can discuss the features of the new suit or whatever,” Shuri announced, “we’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay, see ya later, Shuri!” Bruce called waving them goodbye. Barnes gave Sam a short nod as he followed the princess out of the door. 

“So,” the doctor began as soon as they were alone, “let’s get started!”

“Yeah!” Sam clapped his hands.

They went over to a big glass tube and Bruce told him to undress.

“Why?” Sam asked.

The doctor explained, “I want to do a full-boy scan so that the new armor can be fitted as well as possible.”

Sam nodded understandingly and got in the tube.

“Okay,” Bruce said by the time the scan was finished, “do you have any idea how you want your suit to be? Any preferences?”

“It should be bulletproof,” Sam started.

“Sounds reasonable…”

“The wings should be… maneuverable… and fast… and they should have a high load capacity, in case I have to save people or something like that,” the Falcon took a second to think, “I want my ears to be covered. Sometimes they become infected because of the cold wind.”

Bruce hummed in response as he typed in what Sam had just told him. _“Calculations are made,”_ the screen said. Then suddenly, a hologram appeared in the middle of the lab. 

“Any color preferences?” asked Bruce like it was nothing.

“Um,” Sam tried but all he could do was to stare completely dumbfounded at the hologram of the suit.

“I see that you’re probably not capable of making a wise decision right now, so I’ll just let you sleep on it for a night or two, m’kay?”

“Y-yeah okay, yeah that sounds… good, yeah, thanks,” Sam managed still not able to take his eyes off the hologram. If this was going to be his new suit… God, now he could show it off in front of the kid in spandex who was unfortunately still alive… How did he call himself again? Spider-kid? Spider-boy? Ugh, whatever!

“Good, let’s move on to the hand-to-hand combat suit,” Bruce continued.

“Hand-to-hand combat suit?” Sam repeated trying to process what the other had just said.

Bruce shrugged. “Yeah, well, I assume you don’t want to get in a fist fight with your wings still attached to your back, amirite?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, this won’t take long. High agility, low weight, impact-resistant. Dark blue and black.” Bruce shot Sam a questioning look.

The latter nodded. “Sounds good.”

The hand-to-hand combat suit would be ready by tomorrow, Bruce had told him. For now, Sam was free to go wherever he wanted. So he went to the common area, which was on the same floor as his room. In the common area they served food and drinks, which Sam appreciated as he was practically _starving_.

He sat down at a free table with a plate filled with different fruits he didn’t know and a glass of water. As he ate, he felt lonely. Probably because all the other people who were in the room talked in Xhosa. And Sam didn’t know Xhosa.

If he was in DC, he would just go visit his mother or sister. Maybe he even would have dinner with them. They would just… talk. About everything. Or he would play hide-and-seek with his niece Taylor. God, how old was she? If she hadn’t been dusted, she would be ten by now. The last time Sam had seen the little girl had been on her third birthday back in 2016. But what if his whole family had been vanished? Or worse: Everyone except Taylor!

Sam suddenly felt the urge to call his mother. He took out his phone. Shit, the battery was dead… Sam hadn’t had no time to recharge his phone, yet. Maybe there was a charger in Shuri’s lab…

Just as he decided to stand up and go find a charger Barnes entered the common room. His expression was blank, and he seemed to be lost in thoughts but when he spotted Sam on the other end of the room his mood lightened a little bit.

“Hey Sam,” the ex-assassin said quietly pointing at the chair opposite to Sam, “can I sit?”

“Hello Barnes. Of course, you can,” said Sam, surprised by the brown-haired man’s sudden shyness.

They just sat there for a while until Sam got tired of the uncomfortable silence and asked, “Did Shuri say something about the arm?”

Barnes looked up. “Yes.”

Wow, what an answer…

“And?” Sam did NOT want to press on him, but Barnes looked like he needed to get something off his chest.

“Well…” he began and swallowed hard, “my arm, the one HYDRA gave me, is made of an alloy. Mostly titanium and aluminum but the piece that is _inside_ my shoulder also contains around two percent palladium, which is toxic.”

“So that means…?”

“That they have to remove the whole arm. Everything. As soon as possible, otherwise I’d die sooner or later.” The brunette looked to the side and Sam pushed his half-emptied plate towards the man.

“Thanks,” Barnes whispered before taking a small bite from the bright red fruit Sam hadn’t dared to try, yet.

“So, what does ‘sooner’ mean?” Sam asked carefully.

“Shuri said that if they left the piece inside of me, I would die in five to ten years. The alloy wasn’t made to be inside my body for so long. That’s why the palladium starts to dissolve,” the ex-assassin explained, face blank.

“Oh,” Sam was definitely not expecting that, “that’s… very soon. I assume you’re letting them remove it.”

“I guess…” Barnes let out a dry laugh. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“No, unless you want to die early.” Maybe this comment had been inappropriate, but it made the brown-haired man chuckle so…

“Define ‘early’,” he said, “I was born in 1917 so isn’t it about time?”

“Look, you can’t really count those years you were with HYDRA. I saw your files. You were frozen most of the time,” Sam said.

“You- you read my files?” Barnes stammered.

“Sorry, yeah, I think that came out wrong,” said Sam quickly, “Did you know that I met Steve just one week before I met you? Well, not _you_ you but brainwashed assassin you.”

The brunette shook his head in response.

“And did Steve ever tell you that he sent me to look for you after the fight in DC?”

Barnes frowned. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Now you do,” said Sam trying to give the man an encouraging smile, “I know what they did to you.”

“Have you told Steve?” Barnes asked tentatively.

“No.” Sam was telling the truth. “But maybe he read it himself.” He saw the other man’s gaze drop to the now empty plate. “Look, that part of your life is in the past and I don’t want to force you to do anything but… maybe the surgery is a good possibility to finally put all of that behind yourself.

The ex-assassin nodded slowly.

“I can come with you if you want,” Sam suggested and Barnes’ head shot up, “Or not if you don’t w-“

“No!” the brunette said hastily, “I mean, yes, it would be nice of you if you could just… be there and… observe everything. I don’t really trust doctors anymore, so… Freezing me is one thing, operating on me is another thing.”

“Yeah, I get that,” said Sam and watched the tension fade slowly from the super soldier’s shoulders.

“Good.”

The surgery was scheduled three days later. In the meantime, Sam had tested the prototypes for his armor and wings and Barnes had spent most of the time in Shuri’s lab, probably to make plans for the new arm or something. Once, Sam had noticed, he had gone away to visit his goats. He came back with a colorful bracelet on his right wrist. The bracelet had been made by the children that lived down in the valley where the farm was.

On the day of the surgery Sam woke up earlier than usual. He took a long shower and then went for a walk in the rainforest at the foot of Mount Bashenga since the heat became unbearable around noon. Well, at least for Sam…

At half past eleven sharp, he arrived at Shuri’s lab. Barnes was already sitting on a table, surrounded by a few doctors who removed his vibranium arm, dressed in nothing more than plain white pants with his hair tied up in a thick bun. Sam tried not to stare.

“Well?” he asked, walking towards the table, “How’s C3PO doing today?” The confused expression on Barnes’ face made him laugh.

“Fine, I guess,” the brunette answered slightly perplexed, “Who or what is C3PO?”

Oh…

“Um, have you seen Star Wars?” Sam tried.

The other man shook his head. “No, but I heard of it. Shuri once told me that she’d like to watch it with me.” He pondered for a while. “Should I be offended?”

“What? No!” Sam responded quickly, “Just didn’t want to call you Barnes, that’s all. Don’t ask me why.”

The ex-assassin’s brows knitted together but he said nothing.

“G’morning, boys!” they were greeted by Shuri. The two men greeted back. “Should we get started?”

The princess made short work. She told Barnes to lay down so that one of the doctors was able to place a venous access. Sam observed everything from a safe distance because he didn’t want to be in the way. Only a few minutes in, Barnes passed out and Sam wondered with concern what stuff the Wakandans pumped into him since it was apparently capable of knocking out a super soldier in a minimum of time. Well, he’d rather not know, to be honest.

With fascination but also a bit of disgust and horror the Falcon watched as the surgeon sawed of the protruding part of the metal arm. Meanwhile, an anesthetist observed the vital parameters which seemed to be mostly normal during the whole process. Soon the surgeon and Shuri started to remove the remaining pieces of metal. A bright red scar tissue appeared from underneath and Sam grimaced in non-existent pain. Luckily the super soldier didn’t seem to feel anything. At least the vital parameters stayed the same.

One hour later every little piece had been removed and Shuri grafted a piece of vibranium tech in Barnes’ shoulder, at the point where the old arm had been. According to the princess it should function as a connection part for the new arm.


	3. Three

When Barnes woke up, he was very dazed and somehow confused, understandably. He was still laying/sitting in bed by the time Sam came to check up on him and to bring him some food.

“Hey, sleepyhead. You awake?” Sam asked as he entered the room.

“Sammy is that you?” the brunette mumbled, visibly struggling to properly focus on the man in front of him.

“First of all, never call me Sammy again, okay? Second, yes, it’s me,” Sam said and put the tablet with food on the nightstand next to the bed.

“But why?” the brunette whined, “Sammy suits you.”

“What kind of drug did they give you?”

“I dunno,” Barnes said and shrugged one-shouldered, “the last time I felt like this was back in 1942 when I was smoking marihuana with some friends.”

“Sergeant Barnes! Did nobody tell you ‘no power to drugs’?” teased Sam, lowering his voice to sound more like old Steve. Barnes snorted.

“I believe Steve’s mother told us once or twice but…” He shrugged again.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Sam shook his head in fake-disappointment.

Barnes rolled his eyes. “And you were all goody two-shoes, eh?”

“My father was a minister so… I had to be a good role model,” said Sam as innocent as possible and Barnes huffed.

“Quit lying!” he pouted, “I’m high as hell and I can’t tell if you’re telling the truth or not!”

“I’m not lying,” Well, he was… kind of… It wasn’t like he had truly cared about his father’s job back then. And he had cared even more less about what his father expected from him. Although now, he didn’t want to bring it up.

They sat there in silence for a while. Sam remembered how he had sat there next to Steve’s bed after the fight in DC back then. It felt almost the same now. While he was still racking his brain over what he should do next, Barnes had somehow managed to open the cup of yoghurt, which Sam had brought him earlier, one-handed.

“Sam?” he asked suddenly, and Sam hummed. “Why do you keep calling me Barnes?”

The Falcon shrugged. “Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, it just feels a bit weird. Friends don’t call each other by their last name,” the brunette remarked.

“So, we’re friends now?” Sam asked more than a little surprised because he hadn’t expected that. Only when Barnes’ expression started to drop, he noticed that he had been kind of rude. “Sorry,” he managed.

“No, it’s fine…” the ex-assassin murmured, “it’s just that everybody who tried to kill me in the past few years called me Barnes, that’s all.” He tried to scrape out the rest of the yoghurt in the bottom of the cup.

Sam made a thoughtful noise. “What do you want me to call you, then?”, he asked, “Because I’m definitely not calling you Bucky.”

Barnes frowned. “Why not?”

“Because it’s a stupid-ass nickname. Sounds like a dog’s name or somethin’.”

“How ‘bout James?”, Barnes suggested, “That human enough for ya?”

Sam took a second to think. James was definitely not a bad name… Quite the opposite even… James sounded serious. And the more Sam thought about it the more it seemed to fit for the super soldier in front of him. “Yeah,” he said, “James is good,” and then awkwardly, “Hello James.”

“Hi…”

In the afternoon Sam finally got the opportunity to call his mother. Which didn’t mean that he actually did but still. He hadn’t talked to her since, like, seven years except for those two-minute-phone calls that were hardly long enough to say, “I’m alive” and “I miss you”. Sam didn’t want to imagine how Darlene had probably felt during the past years. But he had to call her. Now. Otherwise he would never do it. The sooner, the better he told himself as he clicked the green button and held the phone closer to his ear.

 _“Hello?”_ Darlene’s voice echoed through the speaker. Sam hardly recognized it.

“Hello Ma,” he answered, “it’s me, Sam.”

 _“Sam,”_ his mother repeated softly as if she could believe who she was talking to right now. _“You are alive.”_

“Why would you think that I’m dead?” asked Sam and pressed his lips together as he waited for his mother to answer.

 _“Steve Rogers,”_ she said, _“he told me about their plan to bring everyone back.”_ She let out a sob. _“I saw how they came back from the dead or wherever they were. I saw it and waited for you to come back as well. But you didn’t and neither did Captain Rogers. I thought you died in this battle.”_

“I’m so sorry, Ma, I know,“ began Sam but he was cut off by the woman.

 _“You should’ve come back to us! Or at least call us!”_ she cried.

Sam inhaled sharply. “Yes, I know, I should’ve. I’m really sor-”

 _“Damn right, you should have!”_ Darlene yelled almost hysterically, _“Do you have any idea what you put us through?!”_

“I can imag- “, Sam was cut off by his mother again.

 _“No, you can’t!”_ she yelled, _“Because you just can’t think straight, kid.”_

“I’m sorry, okay?” Sam tried.

 _“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”_ Darlene mimicked him. _“If you’d be truly sorry, you’d be here by now.”_

Sam didn’t know what to say to that. He heard his mother cry at the other end of the phone line. He felt guilty. He felt helpless because he knew that there was nothing he could say to help his mother right now. Except…

“I’m coming home.”

_“You- What?”_

“I’m coming home,” Sam repeated, “soon.”

 _“What d’you mean ‘soon’?”_ Darlene asked barely audible.

“Well,” Sam started carefully because he knew his explanation wouldn’t please his mother at all, “it means that I still have to get something done here.”

 _“Why?”_ He heard his mother let out a shaky breath. _“Where are you?”_

“Wakanda.”

 _“Why are you in Wakanda, Samuel?”_ she asked.

“The princess is making a new pair of wings and suit for me,” Sam replied because it was true, “Besides…”

 _“Besides what?”_ said Darlene, more vigorously this time.

Sam sighed. “I’m keeping a friend of mine company,” Sam answered although referring to Barnes as a friend of his felt kind of weird. Were they friends? They barely knew each other, right? Maybe they were… colleagues since they met at work. Nah, still sounded weird…

 _“Who? Rogers?”_ his mother asked and brought him back to reality.

“No, I never told you about him. He…” Sam took a moment to think. “He got injured during the fight against Thanos. They had to operate on him, so I kept his company,” he explained because it was at least partly true.

Darlene hummed in response. _“When will you be home?”_

“Dunno. Probably in a few days, a week maximum.”

 _“Okay,”_ she whispered, and Sam knew she was on the verge of tears, _“I love you, Sammy.”_

“Love you too, Ma, but please don’t call me Sammy. It’s so embarrassing,” Sam said but didn’t manage to sound serious.

His mother giggled and then sniffed. _“I know, that’s why I call you that.”_ She paused. _“Please call me, when you’re on your way back, okay?”_

“Will do. See you soon, Ma.”

_“Be careful, son.”_

“Am I ever not careful?” Sam joked and Darlene snorted.

_“Goodbye, Sam.”_

“Yeah, bye,” he said. Then he hung up and released a breath he didn’t know he had held the whole time. He was… okay. Probably. They left on good terms, right? Well, kind of.

The Falcon went outside to get some fresh air. Arguing with his mother did something to him. She always made him feel like an asshole. However, this time she was right. Sam was an asshole. For not heading straight to DC, for avoiding calling her because he had known what she would say, for not even showing one damn sign of life after everyone returned from the dead.

He took a deep breath and then it came back into his mind. He had completely forgotten to ask after his siblings. Sarah and Gideon. Or Taylor. He had forgotten to ask if they were okay.

Family used to be the most important thing in Sam’s life. But now… All that superhero stuff somehow clouded his mind.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I'm sorry for not having posted this chapter last sunday but I was very busy. The next chapter will probably be posted later than it should since I have a bunch of examen to study for in the next two or three weeks.  
> Though, this chapter is a bit longer to make up for the last one and the possible break.
> 
> Enjoy!

Technically, Bucky should be used to having missed a few years and waking up in a world that has somehow changed. But he wasn’t. He would probably never be. He didn’t know most of the people around him very well, who hadn’t been wiped out, but he still noticed that they were different. The atmosphere they created was different. It was a happy atmosphere – no – a relieved one. In a very odd way. Nobody had really talked about everything that had happened in the past five years, as if they just tried to forget it. And the people that had been gone were very confused. Or at least Bucky was. He hadn’t talked to many people about it, yet, God, he hadn’t talked to many people in general since they were back. Only really to Steve, Shuri and Sam. Steve had acted… weird. Very quiet and cautious and somehow ashamed. Maybe for losing Natalia, maybe for not being able to protect Stark or maybe for not having defeated Thanos the first time they had had the chance. Then Steve had gone back in time and when he had returned, he was different anyway.

For Bucky though everything went on way to fast. It felt like the time slipped through his fingers while he was still recovering in this clean white bed in Wakanda. Although, he wasn’t bored. The painkillers or whatever Shuri had pumped in his veins made the whole process kinda exciting.

There was a knock on the door.

Normally, he would jump out of his bed, grab a gun or a knife from under his pillow or the drawer, invite whoever had knocked the door in and strike them down if it was an enemy. Though now he felt dazed and very high and he didn’t really care whether the person outside wanted to kill him or just say hi.

“Come in,” he said, voice raspy because he hadn’t spoken in a long while.

“Hi James,” a familiar deep voice greeted.

“Oh, hey Sammy, sorry, I meant Sam,” Bucky giggled, and Sam just rolled his eyes.

“Stop it. I brought us dinner, but I can just eat everything myself,” he said putting the tablet on Bucky’s nightstand just like before. Bucky couldn’t do anything but smile. Sam was like an angel. He didn’t just look like one when he swept across the sky, fighting creatures ten times bigger than him, he also acted like one. The first time he had truly been by Bucky’s side had been right before the first battle against Thanos when the had been waiting in front of T’Challa’s palace. The first time Sam had comforted him had been at Stark’s funeral, where Bucky had mourned Natalia instead of the man whose parents he had killed. Bucky had been very surprised about the gesture since he wasn’t used to affectionate physical contact, anymore. No, it was not affectionate, definitely not, Sam had only been doing what he had to do, that’s all. Bucky really had to get over this. The first time Bucky noticed that Sam was incredibly attractive had been way earlier, though. Just before the fight in Germany against Stark’s boy group (plus Natalia) when the had gotten dressed, Bucky had noticed how _muscular_ Sam actually was. After that, Bucky had payed more attention to Sam and noticed that he looked _always_ _beautiful_ , everywhere, at any time. _Absolutely gorgeous_.

Fuck, he had to stop swooning over the man otherwise his crush could become something more serious, and Bucky didn’t want that. He and Sam were friends now and this was just fine and exactly what they needed right now; Bucky told himself.

“I said sorry, didn’t I?” said Bucky accepting a plate filled with rice and vegetables from Sam.

“You didn’t seem very serious,” the man remarked as he sat down on Bucky’s bed.

The brunette snorted. “Oh, my bad. I’ll never do it again.” He couldn’t help but chuckle.

Sam turned to look at him as unimpressed as possible. “You still high or what?”

“Yeah,” Bucky slurred, “Keeps me from getting bored. These drawings on the wall are keeping me busy. Looks like they’re movin’” He pointed to the ceiling. “What time is it anyway?”

“Almost nine. When will you be fine?” Sam asked and gestured towards Bucky’s shoulder. You could practically watch it healing thanks to the super soldier serum.

Bucky shrugged. “Tomorrow, maybe, according to Shuri. She wants to install my new arm and do a fitting for my new suit. I saw your new wings and stuff, by the way. Looks pretty cool. You happy?”

“How could I not be? Still not used to being Captain America now, though…” Sam mumbled.

“You will,” Bucky said giving him an assuring smile, “Besides, I’m having your back so what could possibly happen?” Sam just raised his eyebrows in disbelief and Bucky agreed mentally. There was a LOT that could go wrong, although he didn’t know what, yet. He would find out sooner or later…

“I’m just worried about my family, I guess,” Sam continued, “Hope that it won’t affect their private lives. My Ma isn’t even okay with what I’m doing. She hates me for leaving her alone for so long. The same with my brother Gideon. He abandoned me when I joined the Avengers. And my sister probably hates my, too, since I wasn’t there for Taylor and during her pregnancy. I don’t even know if they survived the snap.”

“How do you know that they hate you when you haven’t talked to them in years?” Bucky asked.

“ _Because_ I didn’t talk to them in years,” Sam shouted which made the ex-assassin flinch, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get loud. As I was saying, we haven’t talked to each other for too long, even if you don’t count the past five years. The family bond used to be very strong.”

“Why don’t you call ‘em?”

“I did. I called my Ma only just.” Sam slouched his normally broad shoulders which made him looked more vulnerable than he actually was. “She was very angry. Blames me for not calling or visiting her by the time we came back. I promised to head over to DC as soon as everything is done here. I hope everyone’s okay.”

 _What?!_ How could Sam’s mother possibly blame her son for not being there _immediately_ after this fucked up battle?!

Sam seemed to read his thoughts because he said, “Like I said, for us, family used to be priority number one. And I already made to many mistakes…”

“Such as?” Bucky asked because how was it even possible that Sam had ever done anything wrong in his entire life? He saw the man swallow hard while he absentmindedly picked around in his food, avoiding Bucky’s eye. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that,” he said quickly, cursing himself for being too curious. He didn’t want to make Sam feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you,” the man said quietly and despite hating himself for almost having pushed it to far Bucky also was a little disappointed about the answer.

“When do you go back to DC?” Bucky carefully asked after a while to break the awkward silence.

Sam shrugged. “Depends.”

“On what?” the brunette pressed because he couldn’t stand Sam’s short answers. It was unusual for him and Bucky didn’t like that. Normally, _he_ was the quiet one.

“Depends on how long it takes Shuri to finish our new equipment,” answered Sam, “and on how long it takes you to recover from the surgery,” he added.

Oh, that was unexpected.

Of course, they were officially friends since a few hours ago but did Sam really want to wait for him to recover before he would go away to DC? Did he care that much about him? Bucky’s heart fluttered at the very thought of that.

“You don’t have to wait for me, Sam,” he said, although he hoped for the exact opposite.

“Oh, I… um… I thought that we’d go to DC together,” Sam said with an awkward expression on his face that made Bucky swoon even more. “Unless, you wanna stay here,” he added warily. Shyness really suited him.

 _Yes,_ Bucky wanted to answer _, yes, yes, yes, yes, thousand times yes!_ But then he remembered the accords from 2016 and the potential arrest warrant that probably was still in force. He couldn’t go back to the United States to _live_ there. The only thing he could do was secretly visiting Sam or whoever from time to time.

“I can’t go anywhere else…” he replied sadly, and Sam’s face fell.

“Why not?” the man asked, disappointment and confusion ringing in his voice.

“The United Nations are probably still tryna arrest me, so…” Bucky began but Sam raised his hands to stop him.

“Whoa, hold on a minute. Did nobody tell you that they dropped the charges against you?” Bucky shook his head in response and Sam continued, “As far as I know, it was Stark who arranged all o’ that right after he returned from your fight in Siberia.”

“Really?” Bucky couldn’t believe it. “And now I don’t even have the chance to apologize for killing his parents anymore.” Now he felt even more guilty than he already was.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” said Sam, putting a warm hand on Bucky’s uninjured shoulder, “If he hadn’t forgiven you long ago, he wouldn’t have revoked the arrest warrant against you, would he?”

“Probably not,” Bucky agreed.

“So,” the other man proudly squared his shoulders, “are there any other reasons for you for not accompanying Captain America on his journey to the New Promised Land?”

“I don’t have any documents,” Bucky said, fully aware that his argument wasn’t valid enough to count, “No ID, no passport, no driver’s license and no credit card or whatever.”

“I’m pretty sure that this won’t be a problem. We can call someone from SHIELD tomorrow, if you want and we don’t have to worry about a place to live for now. Steve told me that we can live in his old apartment in DC until we find something for ourselves,” Sam explained.

“Steve…” Bucky repeated absentmindedly, “he has kids now, doesn’t he?”

“He has grandkids, remember James?”, Sam said and Bucky, who wasn’t used to being called James, yet, felt his heart rate speed up. “Told us he would stay at his granddaughter’s for a while, remember? She’s going to have a baby.”

“Oh my God, yeah, fuck, you’re right!” Bucky gasped, “Holy shit, that’s crazy, Steve is going to be a great grandfather soon. Or maybe he already is…”

“We could call him,” Sam suggested taking out his phone, “I promised to call him as soon as we would arrive here anyway, so…”

“Captain America!” Bucky said overdramatically, “Did I hear right? You broke your promise?”

“Yeah well,” Sam said, “comforting old Cap’s bestie while he’s in surgery seems more important than a phone call, am I right?”

“Stop it, Captain! Imma turn as red as a beet, if you go on flattering me like that,” Bucky giggled covering his face with his hand. Sam snorted and shook his head.

“So, we’re gonna call him or not?” he asked pointing at his phone.

Bucky nodded. “Sure, why not. But put him on speaker.”

“Will do.” Sam dialed Steve’s number and then placed it between the two of them on top of Bucky’s blanket. The device rang once, twice.

After the third ring they heard a rustling noise and then, _“Steve Rogers, who am I speaking with?”_

“It’s Sam… and James,” Sam replied, “Why do you even ask? You know my number.”

 _“God, I dunno,”_ the former Avenger groaned, “ _I’m a bit rattled.”_

“Why? What happened?” Bucky asked. “Hello, by the way.”

 _“Hi,”_ Steve answered sounding breathless, _“yeah well, I’m in hospital right now, my granddaughter’s in the delivery room. Though it’s not the first time for me it’s always exciting.”_

“Oh wow, Stevie, congratulations!” Bucky tried to not get to excited as well. “We have bad timing then, I guess?”

 _“No, not at all!”_ the old man answered quickly, _“Actually, I appreciate the distraction, boys.”_

“And how long have you been there already?” Sam asked.

 _“God, I don’t know,”_ Steve groaned, _“Two hours, maybe three? I have no idea. But I’m glad that you called me. It was getting kinda boring out here. Though I hope my son will arrive soon. Just called him, so yeah… Mimi’s husband just arrived to support her, though.”_

“Is Mimi your granddaughter?” Sam asked with a weird expression on his face.

 _“Yeah, I know,”_ Steve sighed _, “don’t judge me. I didn’t pick the name... But you’re right. She is.”_

“So, Mimi isn’t just her nickname?” Sam asked. “Could be short for Miriam or whatever.”

 _“Nope,”_ Steve answered, popping the p. _“Is there any particular reason why you’re calling? Anything happened over there in Wakanda?”_

“Well…” Sam began, shooting an unsure glare at the ex-assassin, who nodded and allowed him to go on, “Shuri removed the rest of James’ metal stump-thingy and we’ll both get new equipment. I didn’t see the prototypes for Cryofreeze’s over there, yet, but man, I promise you,” he made a dramaturgic pause before continuing, “Captain America is going to be fine as fuck!”

Bucky couldn’t help but giggle stupidly which was why Sam pinched his belly, making the super soldier squeak. Steve probably was amused, too, since they could hear him cough on the other end of the line.

“Stop it!” Bucky yelped and tried to squirm away from Sam’s hand that started its next attack. “Ah, fuck!” he hissed through the sudden pain in his shoulder.

The other man stopped immediately. “Fuck, I’m sorry, James, did I hurt you?” He started to carefully examine the wound, checking the sensitive slough that covered the area. Then he sighed in relief, “Thank God, nothing opened, everything’s fine.”

“Phew!” said Bucky and leaned back against his pillow to relax.

 _“What happened, boys?”_ Steve asked, sounding very father-like which made Bucky smile.

“Sam tickled me, and I hurt my shoulder, that’s all. Everything is fine over here, don’t worry,” he explained.

 _“You can’t just leave each other alone, can you?”_ Steve chuckled and Bucky could practically see him shaking his head in a mixture of amusement and disappointment. Maybe they should actually start calling him grandpa or something. It would fit.

“Nope,” Sam answered, not sounding sorry one bit.

 _“Why did they remove the stump, though?”_ Steve asked and Bucky told him everything Shuri had tried to explain to him before. About the alloy that was supposedly toxic and would kill him within a few years. Although, there was no time for Steve to be shocked because Sam continued about their plan return to the States in a few days.

“So, just to be sure, can we live in your old flat for a while?” he asked.

 _“Yeah, well, about that…”_ Steve began, _“maybe you have to take Sharon’s. But it’s just next door. I told her that she and her fiancé could move into since hers is too small for to persons. Or three…”_

“Sharon has a fiancé?!” Sam shouted, “And what do you mean in ‘or three’? Is she pregnant?”

_“Not to my knowledge but you can never know, right? Anyway, I thought that this is a better solution, if they want to have kids anytime soon, so I hope you’re okay with two bedrooms and only one bathroom…”_

“We’ll work it out, don’t worry, Steve.”

 _“That’s a relief, thank you, boys,”_ Steve sighed. Then they heard somebody yell and cry on Steve’s end and the old man shouted, _“Shit, boys, I gotta go! The baby’s there!”_

“That’s great, Stevie! Boy or girl?” Bucky asked.

 _“Boy!”_ Steve said breathlessly, _“Sorry, I really have to go now. Call me before you leave Wakanda, ‘kay?”_

“Will do, Steve, goodbye!” Sam and Bucky answered with one voice.

_“Okay, thank you. Bye!”_


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Here is a small warning: If you don't like explicit desciptions of wounds etc. be careful reading this chapter. Don't worry, it's not a major paragraph.
> 
> Enjoy :D

“Cryofreeze? Seriously?“ Bucky asked after Steve hung up.

“Get used to it,” Sam answered, a barely visible grin forming on his plump lips.

“If you keep calling me Cryofreeze imma call you Sammy.”

“No, you’re not. Definitely not,” said Sam and started to put their dirty dishes back on the tablet. Before taking Bucky’s, which was currently laying on top of the blanket in his lap, he pointed at it and said, “I assume you’re finished?”

Bucky nodded in response and handed Sam the plate. “You gonna go to sleep now?”

Sam shrugged, “Nah, I don’t think so. But you should since you gotta try out your new equipment tomorrow. The shoulder must be fine by then.”

“Too bad,” Bucky groaned, “Today I had one of the longest conversations I’ve ever had in the past 80 years.” He didn’t want Sam to go, yet. Though talking to him still felt a bit awkward (especially since the funny effect of Shuri’s painkillers wore off slowly, so he had no excuse for embarrassing behavior anymore) it felt much easier than talking to one of the other Avengers. It felt like he and Sam were in the same boat. Bucky wondered how the other man felt about Steve’s decision to go back in time and live his life without either of them. Sam didn’t seem to be very affected by that and Bucky used to be good at reading people. Though, he assumed that Sam was one of the men who kept their feelings at bay, much like the ex-sergeant himself. Back in the day, it had been essential to survive. To survive in a society full of people who would have enjoyed seeing him dangle from the gallows. At least the people from his hometown would have, not so much the Brooklyners but still… Bucky hadn’t been able to do what he wanted to do and with whom he wanted to do it. He wasn’t even sure what the people thought about it by now. Maybe society had changed. There was less racism at least, wasn’t it? Hopefully also less homophobia… But Bucky didn’t dare to ask anybody because if there was still homophobia he would be _fucked_. Everybody would know that he was… well, what he was, and then they’d abandon him… or worse.

“-James? James, hey, you still with me?” a familiar voice came through to him.

“Hm?” Bucky hummed and tried to focus on Sam who was still sitting beside him. The sudden tiredness seemed to blur everything around him.

“You should go to sleep, James,” Sam said quietly, and the undertone of his deep voice felt so soothing that the brunette could have drifted off from only that. “How ‘bout we meet at eight in the common room tomorrow? For breakfast?”

“Yeah, that sounds-“ Bucky was interrupted by a knock on the door. Why did so many people want something from him? At first Sam and now…

“Come in,” he croaked as loud as possible so that the person outside could hear him.

“Hello Buck- oh, good evening, Mr Wilson,” Shuri greeted, “I wasn’t expecting you to still be here.”

“Oh, I was just leaving,” Sam said pointing towards the door, “I can go now, if you want.”

“I don’t care about that.” The young princess turned to look at Bucky. “I’m just here to take a last look at the injury, Bucky. Maybe I need to give you another injection to speed up the healing process. I really want to do the final fitting for your equipment tomorrow. Also, there are a few warriors who have injuries from the battle against Thanos and we don’t have enough capacities for everyone. Don’t get me wrong, I’d never want to kick you out, but I’d like to wrap this up as soon as possible. I assume it is in your interest as well?” Now she was talking to both of them.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” answered Sam and stood up. Bucky immediately felt how the warmth Sam spread wherever he went left. He tried to wriggle on the mattress as low-key as possible so that his legs were in the spot where Sam had been sitting. Maybe the blanket was still a little warm. A shiver ran down Bucky’s spine when his feet finally found the spot and warm blood rushed from his toes back to his chest. “I’m gonna call it a night now, too,” Sam said, mostly to Bucky, “if that’s fine by you, James.”

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed because he didn’t want to demand too much from Sam. Besides, Bucky was an adult, right? He could handle an injection himself, especially one from Shuri.

“Okay,” whispered Sam bending down to pick up the tablet from the nightstand, “See you tomorrow, then?”

“Eight o’clock sharp, Captain!” the ex-sergeant said with pride and was rewarded with one of Sam’s bright, gap-toothed smiles Bucky was totally swooning over.

“Roger that,” Sam responded, awkwardly trying to balance the tablet on one hand so he could salute with the other one, “Goodbye!” Then he stepped out of the door and disappeared around the corner.

“James?” chuckled Shuri signing the footman who accompanied her to put the utensils she needed on the nightstand, “Is that what he calls you? Never heard him do that before.”

“He used to call me Barnes until a few hours ago.”

“And?” Shuri pressed while taking a syringe-like – but in a Wakandan way – tool, filling it with a clear liquid from an ampoule. “Is there anything I need to know?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Bucky let out a dry laugh. “As if!”

“Don’t judge me!” the young scientist said, “Just askin’. Besides… Sam Wilson’s attractive, isn’t he?”

Umm… Was it a trap? If Bucky said “yes”, she would probably think (or more likely _know_ ) that he was attracted to Sam. And if he answered “no”, it would be a big fat _lie_. He could trust Shuri, right? It wasn’t a trap.

Just as he wanted to answer her question, she said panicking, “Oh, I’m sorry, Bucky! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or offend you in any way. Maybe you Americans have a different view on…” She paused, awkwardly gesturing with her hands, “all of that.”

Bucky said nothing. He took a deep breath instead. Shuri did the same.

“I’m gonna give you an injection that speeds up the healing process now,” she explained after a brief silence, “please hold very still for a second.”

After giving Bucky the injection, Shuri carefully covered the slough on his shoulder, chest and back with soothing ointment and helped him to lay down comfortably without damaging anything. Neither of them brought up the last topic again.

The next day, Bucky woke up at almost eight o’clock.

 _‘Shit,’_ he thought because he didn’t want to be too late for breakfast and his meeting with Sam. Though, before he could practically jump out of his bed, he remembered his injured shoulder and stopped himself from rushing and accidently hurting himself. Uncertain, he glanced sideways on his shoulder, trying to move as little as possible. The slough that covered the area was dried-out and cracked in a few places, so Bucky was able to see a new, thin skin flashing through. He sat up carefully and looked at his shoulder again. Because of the movement the slough had been cracked again. A big piece on his chest broke loose and dangled down on him. Cautiously, Bucky peeled it away and looked at the new, reddened skin underneath. There was no wound left, the skin was unhurt and smooth, except for the part around the connection piece, and the dry slough was easy to peel off which was exactly what the ex-assassin did. Then he got out of bed and threw it in the trash container next to the door.

Awkwardly, he put on a t-shirt, some plain white pants and a pair of sandals, and went to the common area where Sam was already awaiting him in a quiet corner next to the huge window. Various fruits were spread out on the table in front of him.

“G’morning,” Bucky greeted as he approached the table.

“Good morning,” Sam greeted as well, taring his gaze away from the beautiful landscape outside to look at Bucky, “You slept well?”

“I did, actually,” Bucky answered, sitting down opposite from the man, “my shoulder healed almost completely.”

“That’s great, man!” Sam laughed. His normally coffee-brown eyes seemed to glow like amber in the warm light of the rising sun. There was probably nothing that could wake up Bucky better than these stunning eyes and this wonderful laugh.

The started to eat. Bucky wondered why Sam hadn’t started to eat, yet, since he had come a few minutes too late, but he didn’t ask. He showed Sam how to peel a strange Wakandan fruit because it was practically impossible to do it one-handed. Though it was a little complicated Sam managed surprisingly well. 

When they were finished Sam explained that he planned on calling Sharon Carter. Apparently, she still was a SHIELD-Agent with helpful connections to the government and Sam hoped that she could get the ex-assassin an ID, a passport and whatever else he needed to be able to live in the United States nowadays. Moreover, Sam wanted to ask her about the apartment in DC that Steve had promised them yesterday.

Bucky and Shuri met only one hour later while Sam and Doctor Banner tested another pair of wings or whatever. The princess examined the skin of his left shoulder and ran a few full-body scans. Everything seemed to be fine which was very relieving. By the time the scans were done, Shuri presented Bucky the new arm. The design was very similar to the one of the first vibranium arm, except that the colors were different. The vibranium plates were dark blue, now, and the space in between white. There was also a white star on the shoulder, very similar to the red one of HYDRA’s arm, but it didn’t bother Bucky since it was Captain America’s symbol as well. The affixing went smooth, but Bucky was pretty sure that it could become very complicated, if he had to do it on his own. The metal arm itself weighted just as much as his human arm so he was perfectly balanced. After Shuri had run a few installations Bucky was able to move the arm. The joints worked perfectly smooth and were almost as flexible as the real ones. Also, the surface was not as cold as the ones of the arms Bucky had had before. Instead it almost felt as if it had a normal body temperature which made Bucky very happy.

“But there is another thing that is special about this arm,” Shuri announced, fiddling around with the arm, “Look!”

And then the color of the metal plates changed.

“If you don’t want anyone to see the arm you can just activate this option and voilà,” she gestured towards the mirror in front of them, “Tattoos!”

“Wow,” Bucky managed, trying not to tear up, “it looks like a normal human arm…”

“Covered in tattoos, yeah,” Shuri said proudly, “Unfortunately, I couldn’t make it look realistic enough without the tattoos, but I think it’s fine.”

“It’s… it’s,” Bucky stammered, not able to find the right words, “better than just fine. It’s great, it’s beautiful! I… I owe you so much!”

“Nah, you don’t but… maybe you could convince me brother to allow me to visit Coachella next year. That would be cool.”

“I’m not sure if I am in the position to convince the king to let you visit… what?”

“Coachella. It’s a music festival in California and I really, _really_ want to visit it,” the young princess explained.

Bucky nodded, although he hadn’t understood.

“Well, let’s try on the armor, then?” Shuri suggested, clapping her hands.

Bucky did as he was told. The armor, meant for hand-to-hand combat, consisted of a marine blue jacket, dark-gray pants and black boots. All in all, very unspectacular but as it wasn’t meant to be flashy it was totally fine. It was impact-proof – in some places even bullet-proof – and provided enough flexibility to be able to properly fight in it, so Bucky was totally satisfied.

Shuri asked Bucky about the shoulder and the new arm from time to time but the former HYDRA-Agent didn’t feel no pain which was very good and very new for him because the shoulder used to hurt always. Though Bucky had been used to it by now, it felt heavenly to feel _nothing_.

An hour later – Shuri had explained how to install and detach the cybernetic arm – they were finished, and Bucky’s full equipment was stored away, ready to be transported.

He went back upstairs to the common room where Sam was already sitting in _their_ corner.

“Hey, Cyborg,” he said, “I was just about to call Sharon. Wanna join in?”


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah, finally!  
> I'm sorry that it took me so long to write this chapter.  
> Anyway, enjoy and leave a comment if you like. I appreciate constructive criticism :D

“Hello?”

“Sharon? Is that you? It‘s Sam Wilson, by the way, and James Barnes,” Sam answered.

“Oh my God, Sam, it’s so good to hear from you!” Sharon greeted, “Hello to you too, Mr…” she hesitated, ”Barnes?”

“Bucky is fine,” the super soldier said quickly, and Sam gifted him small smile.

“Okay, great… Bucky… Anyway, how are you two?” the SHIELD-agent asked.

“I’m surprisingly fine, actually,” Sam answered, “And you?”

He could hear the woman sigh. “A bit overworked, to be honest. Since everybody came back, people are going crazy.”

“How do you mean?”

Sharon sighed again. “The population of the whole universe has doubled in one minute only a few days ago. We don’t have enough food and places to sleep for everyone and most people don’t understand what just happened to them. Besides, many criminals and gang members were brought back, as well, and they go ape shit-“ She was interrupted by a male voice on the other end of the phone line. After a moment, Sam could hear her say, “Yeah, I’m sorry, hon.”

“Was that your fiancé?” James asked a moment later.

“How do you guys know about Andrew? Wait- did Steve tell you?”

“He did,” Sam answered, and Sharon chuckled.

“He was the reason why I got to know Andrew in the first place. Well, Steve and you, Bucky.”

“Really, how’s that?” James asked.

“His real name is Andreas Jaeger, he’s from Germany,” the woman explained, “I met him when I got deployed in Berlin for the Anti-Terrorism Task Force back in 2016. I came to Vienna before to find you and then we all went to Berlin, remember?”

“Kinda…” James responded, sounding a little bit ashamed, which Sam kind of understood, considering the circumstances at the time.

“Well yeah, that was then…” Sharon continued seemingly noticing James’ uncomfortableness, “Anyways, why are you calling, guys? No offence, I enjoy talking to you but I’m kinda in a hurry. Andrew and the ministers are next door and about to call the President to discuss the current situation. I have to attend the meeting as well, so… what do you want?”

Sam and James told her about what Steve had said to them the day before. Sharon agreed on their plan to move into her current apartment as soon as they were back in DC since most of her stuff was already in Steve’s (excluding the furniture because Steve’s was better, which was why she was glad that Sam and James were ready to over hers). They agreed on meeting on Saturday, which was only two days away, and Sharon was also willing to provide James an ID and a passport so nothing could stop them from going back to the US.

Saturday came fast. Looking back at it, Sam should have enjoyed this kind-of-vacation more than he actually had. Most of the days he had spent alone or rather without James because this guy was busy testing the new metal arm with Shuri.

The arm was – in Sam’s opinion – very cool and James seemed to be comfortable with it as well. He even volunteered to wear tops with short sleeves to show it off, especially the tattoo-function (which kinda hit Sam’s aesthetic so he couldn’t not look at it whenever the former HYDRA-agent was around. Hopefully, James didn’t notice.) The Falcon was happy for his new friend. Everybody deserved to feel comfortable in their skin, if you asked Sam.

Once, Sam went down to the labs to talk to Bruce and help him pack the new equipment together. He also called Sharon again to ask her, if she could pick them up at the airport when they arrived (She said yes.) and next he called Darlene to tell her that he (and James) would be back in Washington DC by Saturday afternoon. He promised to have dinner with her and asked, if James could come to since he didn’t want to leave the guy all alone in Sharon’s apartment on the first day (and because he’d get the chance to brag with his mother’s cooking). Luckily, she agreed.

The flight back to DC was – just like the one from Atlanta to Wakanda – very short. Although, Sam decided to sit next to James – unlike last time. When they started in Wakanda the sun was already about to set and the whole world was bathed in a fiery red light. For a brief moment, the ex-pararescue forgot everything that had happened and still did happen around them. Everything just seemed to be okay.

It happened when they started to fly higher and faster. James, who was sitting near to the aisle (if there even was such thing in a Wakandan private jet) tensed up. Sam saw his vibranium fingers dig into the soft material of the armrest of his seat.

“What’s up?” he asked softly, knowing that sudden noises could scare the former assassin. The brunette turned his head to look at him. “You okay?”

In the bright orange light of the sun Sam could properly see the man’s face. His angular jaw was clenched, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. Then, a few seconds later, he nodded. Liar.

“You sure?” Sam asked again because he wanted to help, okay? He wanted to help James feel better, but he couldn’t if the guy didn’t tell him what was wrong. James seemed to notice Sam’s _desperation_.

“I’m… um… I’m afraid of heights,” he eventually said – or rather croaked.

Well, that’s interesting. Sam would have never guessed. Not even Steve had known about this – probably, because he had never told Sam that before (and Sam was certain that the guy had told him everything he knew about James).

“Oh,” was all he managed. He didn’t exactly understand people who had acrophobia (probably because he ‘suffered’ from the exact opposite of it – if there even was such thing) but everybody was afraid of something, right? It’s only human so he asked, “You wanna talk about it?”

The ex-sergeant appeared to think about an answer. After a while, which Sam spent patiently waiting, he said, “My father was an architect and engineer. We moved to New York because he wanted to help build the skyscrapers. They didn’t let him, though, that’s why he decided to work as a normal construction worker just to be part of it.” A sad smile formed on the man’s lips.

“Sounds like your father had a big dream,” said Sam, uncertain if that would cheer James up.

“It was. It was his dream, yeah. When he came home, and we had dinner together he was always talking about ‘em. These big houses. I remember him saying always ‘Up there, you are closer to God. If you get up there, I promise you, son, the world lies at your feet.’ I used to go watch him build after school. I couldn’t actually see him, but I knew where he worked. I used to spend hours watching the workers. One day, I saw one of them fall down and-“ James took a shaky breath. “The only thing I know is that my father didn’t come to dinner that day. Neither the next day. And not the day after.”

Sam didn’t know how much time passed before he finally managed to say something. “I’m- I’m really sorry,” he stammered, “maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, it’s fine,” James answered, “It feels good to finally talk about it, actually. I never had the guts to tell anybody that he died that day, not even myself. That’s why Stevie doesn’t know it. It’s not like my father and I were any kind of close, though, but this is why I hate heights.”

“I understand. But how did you manage to jump off a balcony in Bucharest that day?”, Sam wondered.

The brunette let out a dry laugh. “Survival instinct, I guess. Or HYDRA’s programming. When you have to decide between jumping off a balcony and getting shot by a dozen policemen, what’d you choose?”

“Okay, fair enough,” said Sam and James chuckled softly. He looked so much younger when he smiled, Sam noticed. It was as if his whole face lit up when he laughed. Sam enjoyed that because it meant a lot. Someone who could claim to have made James laugh was allowed to consider himself a good person.

They sat there in silence for a while until James whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Sam asked surprisedly.

“Listening to me.”

When they landed in DC the sun was still high in the slightly cloudy sky due to the time difference. Sharon picked them up in a black van (The SHIELD logo was printed all over it. So much for being an inconspicuous organization of spies…) exactly as agreed and drove them to her – or rather Sam and James’ apartment.

“Looking good,” the woman said, eyeing James’ cyber arm that was set to tattoo-mode by the time they had landed.

“Thanks,” the ex-assassin simply answered, although he seemed more relaxed than before.

“So, welcome to your new home, boys,” Sharon fluted as she unlocked the apartment door. “As you can see it’s already fully furnished. I left you some groceries in the kitchen since I don’t want you to starve to death and there is also some clean bedding for both of you. I want to get it back sometime, by the way. Clean and fresh, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” Sam said grinning, “thanks a lot, Sharon, what do we owe you?”

“Only two thousand bucks a month,” the woman shrugged, about to leave the apartment.

“What?!” the two men shrieked, and she laughed.

“Don’t worry boys, was just a joke. SHIELD’s paying for it,” she said, already standing outside in the hallway, “Talking about SHIELD, I want to see both of you tomorrow in the Triskelion. Ten o’clock sharp. Bye!” Saying this she left, and Sam could hear the door apartment next to theirs fall shut.

Together they unpacked their stuff – except for their armor – and sorted into their wardrobes. The apartment was just a tad smaller than Steve’s, but it had a kitchen, a living room, one bathroom (unfortunately) and two separate bedrooms. Sam didn’t ask for more.

“Imma head to my ma’s in a bit,” he announced by the time they finished unpacking, “Wanna come with me? Her gumbo’s the best you’ll ever taste.”

“What’s gumbo?” the brunette asked, and Sam remembered that he came from another time, in which the gab between blacks and whites was even bigger than it was now.

“You’ll see if you come with me.”


	7. Seven

The ride to Sam’s mother’s house was fortunately short. Neither of them said a word as they stood there – way too close for Bucky’s liking – in the crowded subway. Technically, he could have enjoyed this closeness but since he didn’t know, if Sam enjoyed it too – God, he was probably very uncomfortable right now – Bucky felt tense the whole time.

Since Mrs Wilson’s house was very close to the subway station they walked the rest of the way. It was a calm neighborhood and the only thing he heard were a bunch of kids that probably played tag in a backyard, two dogs that had an argument a few blocks away, and sirens of a police car far away in the inner city. Bucky liked it here.

A few minutes later, Sam stopped. They stood in front of a small house that Bucky wouldn’t have paid much attention to because it looked just like all the others. A ragged front yard with overgrown grass, dry leaves covered the driveway and the curtains before the windows were halfway to completely closed. Bucky could briefly see that the lights were on in at least one room.

“Is this your mother’s house?” he asked Sam.

“I- I don’t know,” the man answered, actually sounding uncertain.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Bucky was confused. Why wouldn’t Sam know where his mother lived?

“It’s just so-“ the man wildly gestured with his hands, obviously struggling to find the right words, “My ma used to be a very tidy person, you know.”

“Guess she probably didn’t have enough time for that,” Bucky figured not needing to explain his thoughts any further since he knew that Sam knew what he was talking about.

“Yeah… probably.” Sam shifted from one foot to another.

A few minutes passed and they were still standing in front of the house like some creeps until Bucky said carefully, “Do you wanna go inside?”

“I should, shouldn’t I?” The Falcon took a deep breath and started walking towards the door. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

Bucky, who didn’t want to disturb the family reunion, answered, “I’m sure that your mom wouldn’t want me there. I would just destroy your moment.”

“But-“ Sam was interrupted by the door that was teared open.

“SAM!” a female voice cut through the air, startling the ex-HYDRA-agent for a second. But then he saw an older woman running out of the door, pulling Sam into an almost crushing hug. Bucky, who preferred to stay in an awkward distance, watched the two of them cling to one another while swaying back and forth with their faces buried in the shoulder of the other. Bucky was sure that he had never seen something so beautiful and heartwarming in his entire life.

“Sam,” the woman said quietly this time by the time they released themselves from the embrace.

“Ma,” Sam whispered covering his mother’s hands that were holding his face with his own.

“You’re alive,” Mrs Wilson breathed and started crying.

“Yes, I am.” Sam cried as well and Bucky looked away and took a few careful steps back, trying to stay out of their moment. “And I’m here,” Sam continued.

“It’s been so long. I missed you so much, baby,” the woman sniffed and pulled her son into another tight embrace. When they let go off each other she noticed Bucky who’d rather have sneaked away but instead forced himself to stay where he was and smile.

“Is that the friend you were talkin’ about?” Mrs Wilson asked and Sam turned around to look at the brunette as well. Bucky felt even more comfortable than he already had and nervously tried to flatten the non-existent wrinkles of his shirt with his flesh and bone hand.

“Yeah, he is,” Sam answered, “Ma, meet James. James, this is my mother Darlene Wilson.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs Wilson,” greeted Bucky and reached his hand out.

“So am I, Mr…”

“Barnes,” he finished her sentence, “but you can call me Bucky, if you want to.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Mrs Wilson said tilting her head to the side as if she wanted to examine the brown-haired man.

“Ma!” Sam said with a warning undertone, “Be nice.”

“I _am_ being nice. I just don’t wanna call him like your ol’ teddy bear!”

“Ma!” Sam groaned, covering his face with his hands and Bucky chuckled.

“You named your teddy bear after me? What an honor.”

“Wouldn’t go to bed without it, I’m tellin’ you,” Mrs Wilson said, grinning, “One time he lost it in while we were shopping. He cried until we found it again. How old were you, Sammy?”

“Ma… Why do you have to tell him that?” Sam whined, “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even want to know.”

“Oh yes, I do! Tell me more, Mrs Wilson,” Bucky said quickly, and the woman grinned even wider, exposing the small gap between her front teeth, just like the one Sam had.

“Come in, then. The food’s almost ready.” She walked back into the house leaving the door open.

Sam and Bucky followed her quickly. On their way inside Bucky asked trying not to laugh, “You really have a teddy bear named Bucky?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Sam hissed and the brunette could see the tiniest bit of redness creeping up to his ears.

They walked through the narrow corridor towards a half-closed door that seemed to lead to the living room. Sam opened it but immediately stopped, making Bucky bump into his back.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” he spluttered nervously, taking a few steps back.

“No,” was everything the other man said.

_Um… okay?_

And then again, “No! No! NO!”, Sam yelled making Bucky jump. But he wasn’t even looking at him… “Mother!” Bucky still couldn’t see why Sam became so angry suddenly. “WHAT ARE _THEY_ DOING HERE?!”

Bucky released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Sam was not talking about him. But who was he talking about then? The ex-assassin peeked over Sam’s broad shoulder and noticed two people – a man and a woman, both probably in their thirties – sitting on a worn-out sofa. The man stood up and walked towards them. He was taller than Sam – probably even taller than Bucky – but not as muscular as the two of them. Threat: medium to low.

“The question is,” the man shouted angrily, “WHAT IS _HE_ DOING HERE?!” He pointed at Sam picking his finger into his chest.

“Don’t touch me!” hissed Sam and batted the other man’s hand away.

“Sam?” the woman on the couch said. She stood up and walked towards them as well. She looked like a younger version of Mrs Wilson. She had to be Sam’s sister…

“Sarah, what are you doing?” The man, Bucky didn’t know the name of yet, growled but the woman ignored him, and hugged Sam. Bucky could see a few tears running down her cheeks. “ _Sarah!”_ the man said again, more harshly this time.

“Oh, quit it, Gideon!” Sarah hissed turning to the man, “Come in, Sam.” She guided him through the door.

It was then when _Gideon_ noticed Bucky who had been standing safely behind Sam before. “Who are you?!” he hissed but this time Bucky didn’t flinch.

“Gideon!” now it was Mrs Wilson who yelled, “He is our guest so be polite! Come in Mr Barnes.”

Bucky entered the living room, leaving Gideon standing stupidly in front of the doorway. Then there was silence – probably one of the most uncomfortable silences Bucky had ever experienced.

Sam was the first one to speak up, “What is Gideon doing here, ma?”

Bucky saw how the older woman bit her lip. “I invited him to dinner. And Sarah.”

“You didn’t tell us that he’d be there, too!” Gideon hissed.

“Guess why?! Would you have come, if I told you he’d be there?” Mrs Wilson asked and Gideon turned away shaking his head in response. “See?”

“Who are you again?” asked Sarah and turned to Bucky.

Before he could answer Mrs Wilson explained, “His name is James Barnes. He is a friend of Sam.”

Although, Bucky knew that the dispute between Sam and Gideon still was far from being solved he was grateful that the two brothers had stopped arguing for now. Mrs Wilson told all of them to wait in the living room until the food would be ready and Sarah called her children. Bucky noticed how Sam, who was sitting next to him, tensed up.

“Uncle Sam?” A little girl appeared at the door and a boy who was even younger peeked past her. That had to be Taylor and the baby Sarah had been pregnant with, Bucky remembered.

“Lori?”

The girl ran towards Sam who had gotten down on his knees and wrapped her skinny arms around his neck. “You’re back!” Bucky couldn’t tell whether she was laughing or crying. “You’re back! I knew you weren’t dead. I knew it! You are a hero and real heroes never die!” She let go. “Meet Jody. Jody c’mere.” She walked back to the door where the little boy was still hiding and picked him up. “Look, Jody. This is our uncle Sam. He is a real hero and he saved the world.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile. This little girl was one of the most precious things he had ever seen in his life. She had huge brown eyes and untamable, curly black hair. He looked at Sarah and the woman lifted her head and smiled at him.

“Woah!” Taylor screamed suddenly, “Is that Bucky Barnes?” _Wait, what?!_ “Are you Bucky Barnes, Mister?”

“Uh…” Bucky didn’t know what to answer because now the girl excitedly jumped up and down in front of him, “yes?”

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Hopefully, the girl’s voice couldn’t become any higher… “Mum, Mum! This is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, Captain America’s best friend! He is a war hero! You are a hero, Bucky! Can I call you Bucky? I learned about you in school! Is it true that you were captured by HYDRA and turned into a brainwashed assassin? Do you really have a metal arm? Is it true that you killed the Starks and that Captain American and uncle Sam become criminals to save you?”

The room went completely silent. Oh no. Oh shit. He was fucked. Everybody looked at him expectantly, except Sam who just looked down on the floor.

“Is that true?” Gideon asked but Bucky didn’t dare to answer him. The man turned to Sam. “Is it true that this is the man who you risked your life for?” Sam said nothing. “Is that the man who almost fucking killed you?! The man who fucking ruined your life? _Our_ lives?! Is this the murderer that killed dozens of people in the past sixty years?!” Gideon was practically yelling at Sam by now. “Is that th-“

“SHUT UP! SHUT THE _FUCK_ UP, GIDEON! No, he is NOT, okay?!” Sam shouted back, making Taylor and Jody cry and run to their mother. She quickly took them to the kitchen where Mrs Wilson was currently working.

Bucky tried to stay as still as he could. Never, NEVER had he seen Sam Wilson so angry before. Technically, he should be flattered since Sam was so angry because someone offended Bucky. No, Gideon didn’t offend him. It was just the truth, right?

“What is going on here, boys?!” Mrs Wilson stood in the doorframe, hands on her hips, with the sternest look on her face, Bucky had seen in a long time. Only his father had managed to look like that.

“This is James Buchanan Barnes, ma,” said Gideon, pointing at the brunette, “Captain America’s friend. Sam went on the run to save him, remember?”

“’f course I do,” Mrs Wilson answered staring directly at Bucky. Her eyes darted from the super soldier to Sam and back. After what seemed like an eternity, she inhaled deeply and whispered, mostly to Sam, “How dare you bring this man into my house?”

From then on, everything seemed like a blur, a dream, a nightmare. The ex-assassin didn’t even remember being hoisted up by Sam and following him out of the door. He didn’t hear the insults that Sam shouted towards his mother and brother. And he didn’t notice that he had practically sprinted the way from Mrs Wilson’s house back to the subway station until his lungs were burning like someone had filled them with oil and set it on fire. He could hear Sam’s voice from afar, shouting things he didn’t understand. Then he felt a warm hand on his back, and someone wrapped their arms around his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, James.”


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,   
> So... it's been a while since I posted the last (7th) chapter and I guess that I'm a bit out of practice.  
> However, I recovered from my depression during my summer vacation on the smallest and most boring island ever (I loved it).
> 
> So: Voilà, I present the 8th chapter of this awefully long fanfiction!  
> Enjoy :D
> 
> PS: I'm also halfway finished with the 9th chapter which I will be posting next week or so.

Sam could have thought this through more carefully. By the time he had seen his siblings in his mother’s house he had known that it was a big mistake to bring James to their – in multiple ways –emotional reunion. Introducing his family to Steve had been already difficult. Especially Darlene had been very skeptical towards all that superhero stuff. When Sam came back from Afghanistan shortly after Riley’s death his mother would not let him go anywhere near possible sources of danger anymore. She was always scared for him – had been from the beginning. There had been time when Sam thought it was annoying and unnecessary. By the time he grew older he figured out that it was her way to show that she loved him. That was why Sam understood that she didn’t want James – the Winter Soldier – in her home. As far as she knew, he was a very dangerous man that had hurt and killed dozens of people while being brainwashed and therefore ruthless. Darlene only wanted her family to be safe. On the other hand, James was not HYDRA’s assassin anymore and Sam needed to make this clear to his family. James was his friend. Now was not the best time to do that, though.

He and James were still on the station platform, sitting on opposite ends of a rotten, once green painted bench. The sun had almost completely set, and it started to get cold. The subway train that would take them back to their apartment appeared and eventually came to a hold in front of them. A few people got off. Sam stood up quickly, ready to hop on but James didn’t make any move to follow him.

“You comin’?” he asked in case the super soldier hadn’t noticed the train yet (which would have been very unlikely).

“No,” the brunette murmured, “you can go but… I kinda wanna be alone for a bit.”

Um…

“Hey man, I understand that you’re kinda pissed but I will not leave you here,” Sam tried, “We’re friends, right? And I’m sorry about what happened. Honestly.”

James let out a huff. “You should get on the train, Sam. I really want to be alone,” he said infuriatingly calmly, avoiding eye contact.

“But-“ Sam began but was interrupted by the other man.

“I said _leave me ALONE_!” The sudden somehow angry undertone in James’ voice made Sam jump and James seemed to be just as startled by it as he was.

“Okay,” Sam whispered and got on the subway train, leaving the ex-assassin on the platform.

James had never snapped at him like that. Well, they haven’t really had many conversations yet, but he hadn’t seen him snap at anyone like that, ever. At least not verbally… Sam just hoped that the brunette would be fine and back home within the next two or three hours.

It turned out that the Falcon was asking for too much. Five hours after coming back to their shared apartment James was still out. By the time the clock struck one Sam decided to finally go to bed. He wouldn’t tell anyone about the sleeping pills that he had to take sometimes to put his rushing mind at ease.

It was almost eight o’clock when Sam woke up. He got out of bed immediately which was partly because of old habits but also because he remembered the meeting with Sharon that he and James had at 10 am at the Triskelion. Two hours would have been more than enough time to get ready for such an event but due to the fact that James didn’t come back last night and that he somehow had to explain this to Sharon or maybe even Fury made it impossible to go back to sleep now.

Though when he stepped out of his bedroom into the living room, he smelled something smoky. A clanging sound came from the kitchen followed by string of curses.

Sam approached the kitchen carefully and peeked around the corner to see who meddled with his kitchenware.

“Oh hi, Sam!” It was James who was awkwardly crouching on the kitchen floor, obviously trying to get something from the back of the cupboard.

“Um… hi?” said Sam, not really knowing how to make use of this odd situation, “How do you do?”

“Better, actually, thanks,” the brunette answered and gave his search after whatever up, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“You didn’t, don’t worry.” The ex-pararescue eyed the pan on the stove skeptically. “What exactly is _this_ supposed to be?”

“Pancakes,” the other man said, tilting his head to the side. Then he looked at Sam. “I thought that I could make you breakfast. I kind of owe you after what happened yesterday. I thought I’d make it up to you but… as you can see, it didn’t really work out. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I am the one that should be apologizing, James,” Sam said.

“You already did. I’m really sorry for ruining the reunion with your family and… for snapping at you.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Besides, it was my fault. I could have known better, so…” he trailed off. Looking down at what was meant to become an edible pancake Sam decided it would be best for the two of them and the kitchenware, if he was the one who did the cooking in this shared condo from now on.

James, who had followed his eye, mumbled, “Yeah, sorry, I’ll just…” He grabbed the pan and started to scrape the contents into one of the trash cans under the sink.

“Woah, hold on a second!”

The former soldier turned to Sam with a confused look on his face (which he had definitely brought to perfection after his few years in the 21st century). “What?”

“You have to put the… um… _pancakes_ into the other one.” The brunette frowned. “We usually separate the garbage. Everything that isn’t paper, carton, plastic or metal goes into the black bin,” Sam explained and pointed at the other trash can.

“Why do I have to… separate this?” asked James while he was doing as he was told.

Sam shrugged, “I guess it’s easier to dispose it when it’s separated. Many people don’t do it, though.”

James just nodded in response.

By the time they finished cleaning the kitchen (plus explaining to Robocop how to turn on a dishwasher) they got ready for the meeting at the Triskelion. It took Sam a little bit longer than James since he owned more than one and a half outfits. Maybe they should do some shopping later. (If there even was a “later”. SHIELD-meetings were fucking unpredictable.)

“What do you think Sharon wants to talk about with us?” James asked as they walked to the Triskelion which was conveniently not too far away from their apartment.

Honestly, Sam had barely any idea. The few things that Sharon had told them on the phone and yesterday in the hallway were the only things they knew about the current situation and its impacts on their near future: Firstly, there was a lot of work to do because the earth and its inhabitants were a fucking mess. Secondly, James still needed some papers including an official permission to become an American citizen again. Thirdly, Sam was Captain America now and there were definitely a bunch of things that had to be cleared beforehand. Did SHIELD even know that Steve had given him his star-spangled shield, yet? It should have gone around by now.

They crossed the long bridge across the Potomac River. The Triskelion was still situated on the small island, surrounded by water. SHIELD had resettled here after the incidents in 2016, as far as Sam knew. The rebuilt tower looked almost the same as the first one. Smiling, the Falcon noticed that they wrote the floor numbers on the outside of the building. Hopefully, this would not be necessary again, though.

Sharon Carter awaited the two men in the visitors’ entrance, accompanied by Agent Maria Hill and a tall, brown-haired man with a serious yet somehow welcoming expression on his face. Sam hadn’t seen him before, but he couldn’t be older than thirty-five. 

“Good morning, gentlemen,” greeted Sharon and Sam tried not to be confused by the formal address that had a kind of cold undertone.

“Good morning, Agent Carter,” Sam responded and so did James. He nodded towards Agent Hill who answered with a grin. Then the tall stranger stepped forward.

“May I introduce you to Mark Robbins, director of SHIELD,” announced Sharon and a slightly too-sweet smile formed on her lips, not reaching her eyes that turned into small slits, sending spiteful stares towards her _boss_. It was quite easy to assume that the woman didn’t like him that much, which was odd, in Sam’s opinion, because Director Robbins seemed to be a man who had his head on straight, and Sam was quite good at reading people. Well, at least he used to say so of himself.

“Sergeant Wilson, Sergeant Barnes, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the director greeted, giving both men a firm handshake.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Sam responded. He could swear that he saw Sharon roll her eyes behind Robbins’ back. “Thank you for making time for us.”

“You are very brave heroes. Allow me to express my sincere thanks to you,” the director said, over-shaking James’ hand which made the super soldier noticeably uncomfortable (or shy) and Sam kind of… jealous? No, it couldn’t be jealousy. It was a completely unnecessary and unhealthy feeling and it definitely didn’t belong in his emotion-assortment. And what the hell could he be jealous of right now? Was it because Robbins’ gave James seemingly more credit than him? If this wasn’t it, why the fuck else? It was definitely NOT because of the bright smile that he gifted James (that almost seemed flirtatious). That would be weird and… totally inappropriate. Why would Sam be jealous of someone who smiled at James? However, a glance towards Sharon and Maria, who were also observing the situation, told him that this behavior was unusual for the director of SHIELD.

After what seemed like an eternity (in which Robbins still hadn’t let go of James’ hand, Jesus Christ!) Sharon clasped her hands together and said, “Could we please transfer this to another place? Your office, for example, Director Robbins?”

“Yes, of course,” the man answered, finally letting go of James’ hand, “Follow me.” He guided the small group to one of the elevators.

After they entered the elevator Sam leaned towards the ex-assassin. “What was that?” he whispered.

“I have no idea,” James answered, shaking his head.

The meeting went almost as Sam had expected. James got a new passport and ID according to which he was 36 years old. After quickly doing the math Sam could tell that it was about right if you didn’t count the full 70 years with HYDRA and the five years after the snap. The guy was even younger than him! Then they talked about the current situation that seemed to stress the SHIELD-agents out more than they actually showed.

“Moving on to the last topic,” Sharon announced when they were about 30 minutes into the meeting, “We need you to sign these papers.” She dropped two thick stacks of papers on the table in front of them.

“What is this?” Sam asked, flipping through the papers.

Without speaking, the blonde turned around the first page and revealed a bold-print writing.

“Sokovia-Accords,” Sam read out loud.

“Yeah,” Sharon said, a tired smile on her lips, “You have to sign them, if you want to be an official member of the Avengers. Otherwise, we have to… you know…”

“Are you serious?” This was in fact an unnecessary question since SHIELD-people were always serious. “I can’t sign these.” He couldn’t. It would be so wrong. Steve had dropped the mantle of Captain America a few years ago because he didn’t agree with the accords so Sam couldn’t take over it by signing them. This was basic understanding. It wouldn’t feel like he did the right thing that way.

“Why?” Robbins leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. His expression was suddenly stern, his eyebrows knitted together and judging by the intense, cold stare that could make everybody shiver Sam could tell that the director wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted.

“Because Captain Rogers-“ Sam was interrupted by the brown-haired man.

“Captain Rogers signed the accords, Sergeant.”

“I don’t go by Sergeant, director. I’m not in the air force, anymore,” said Sam a tad louder than he meant to. After taking a quick breath he continued more calmly, “What do you mean, he signed them?”

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“The accords were reworked after the snap. The Avengers can act freely without needing any government’s permission as long as they are in a member country of the NATO. If not, they need the government’s permission of the country concerned. Though, the US-government is precisely informed about all the Avengers’ activities that are observed by SHIELD,” the director explained, ”Take it or leave it.”

“Mark,” said Maria with a warning but also kind of sad voice and Sam wondered, if the two knew each other better than most people thought.

Robbins slightly ducked his head. “Yeah, I’m sorry, Mary.” Then after a short pause in which everybody in the office seemed to take a deep breath he said, “You have time until next Friday to decide whether you are taking this chance to do the right thing or not. You can send me these contracts per mail or whatever. The main point is that I have them back until Friday. Signed or not.” He stood up, walked around his long desk, that had been separating them, and left the room after giving James a quick nod. Sam tried to not think about Robbins’ behavior too hard.


	9. Nine

Bucky was glad that the first SHIELD-meeting didn’t end like the meeting with Sam’s family – in a _complete_ disaster. Nevertheless, it bothered him that not getting in awkward situation was practically impossible for him. But it was not only his fault. It had been this Mark Robbins-guy who shook his hand for too long (and tried to undress him with his eyes) and not the other way around, right? Although Bucky had a vague idea of what the director’s behavior could be about, he didn’t dare to give it a second thought. And when Sam asked about it on their way home, he simply answered “I don’t know.” instead of “I think he has a crush on me.”. Too risky. Sam’s head seemed to be somewhere else anyway – the accords, Bucky guessed – and by the time they were back home the Falcon went straight to his room, the accords in hand, and didn’t come back out until afternoon. The ex-HYDRA-agent was sitting on the couch, reading a recipe book, that he found in the back of the kitchen cabinet, when Sam entered the living room, looking exhausted.

“Did you sign ‘em?”, Bucky asked carefully.

The ex-pararescue shook his head and flopped down on the couch next to the brunette. “Planning on making me dinner?”

“What?! N-no!”, Bucky panicked. Had Sam noticed him staring? Did someone- did the red witch-lady tell him? She was able to read minds, wasn’t she? Did Sam know that he had a _huge_ crush on him? Luckily, looking at Sam he could tell that the man was referring to the recipe book in his lap and _clearly_ joking because he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh,” Bucky sighed, partly relieved and disappointed, “No, I was just looking up this gumbo-thing you told me about yesterday. You missed it because of me, so I thought that I could…”

“That you could make it for me?”, Sam finished his sentence, “That is actually very sweet of you.” He sounded very, _very_ surprised which made the ex-Sergeant feel bad for a second.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to do,” he admitted, “but I can’t find the recipe.”

“No wonder. You’re looking in the whitest recipe book I’ve ever seen. Gumbo is a traditional meal from the Southern cuisine and you won’t find my Ma’s recipe anywhere because she never wrote it down. But why didn’t you just google it? That’s way easier.”

“Google… it?”

“Um… yeah? You know Google, don’t you?”

“I…” Well, Bucky heard of it. Steve had mentioned it once or twice in a conversation with Natalia, but the ex-HYDRA-agent hadn’t given it a second thought. The only thing he knew about Google was that it had something to do with the internet and that people used it like a lexicon. “Is it a search engine?”

And then the two spent the rest of the afternoon in front of Steve’s (for Sam) amusingly old computer looking up… pretty much everything that came to their minds. They went from foods to drinks to spirits to parties to music. Sam asked what parties were like in the thirties and forties, and Bucky told him. He told him about how he and Steve used to go dancing almost every Friday and Saturday evening. Well, Steve only went on Fridays because he didn’t want to miss church on Sunday mornings due to a hangover. Bucky told Sam about how all the young ladies wanted to dance with him and about Steve who really sucked at dancing (whereupon Sam assured him that he still did). He didn’t tell Sam about the Saturday evenings without Steve when he used to go to this one bar in Brooklyn where he could… well… dance with whoever he wanted without being judged by anybody. He never told anyone. And he sure as hell didn’t plan on it.

Time had taught the ex-Sergeant that he had to be careful when it came to telling people private things about himself. Things they could use against him.

Later that evening, the two ordered Chinese food. Bucky especially liked the spring rolls and the rice with vegetables.

“Do you still have Big Bands and stuff?” he asked Sam before he shoved the rest of his spring roll into his mouth. Sam burst out laughing. “What?” Bucky felt stupid.

“’m sorry,” said Sam trying to swallow his food, “Yeah no, there still are Big Bands but they’re by far not as popular as back then.”

“What kind of music do you dance to at parties then?”

“It varies. Depends on the club and the people that go there. I’m sure that there are still some that play music for people your age.”

“Judging by the stupid grin on your face you seem to be making fun of me and my age,” the brunette countered.

“I would never.” Sam lifted his hands in defense, but his grin got even wider which made his chocolate brown eyes sparkle like amber in the sun. Bucky forced the fluttering in his chest to go away until there was only a slight tickle left and reminded himself that he wasn’t allowed to have these kinds of feelings towards the man next to him. He couldn’t deal with the following disaster. Not again.

“Anyway,” Sam continued, “I don’t really know what the young people listen to these days, but I remember that we used to grind when I was younger. But I kinda missed out on all of that when I signed up and went to Afghanistan”

“’m sorry,” the ex-HYDRA-agent murmured. Sam just nodded looking down at his hands. Bucky didn’t expect the mood to change that suddenly. Clearly, there was a lot the ex-pararescue didn’t tell him about, but Bucky didn’t want to force him to do so. Instead, he grabbed the empty food cartons and went to the kitchen to throw them away.

“Do we have any beer?” Sam called from the living room.

Bucky opened the fridge. There were only a few eggs, yoghurt, milk and orange juice left. “Nope,” he shouted back and heard an exaggerated sigh coming from the other room.

“We desperately need to go grocery shopping,” Sam said when Bucky walked back into the living room.

“Now?”

Sam shook his head. “Nah, but tomorrow. Maybe we can even borrow Sharon’s car. And then we will get you some nice clothes as well, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds good.”

They spent the rest of the evening watching a show named “Fresh Prince of Bel Air”. Bucky didn’t really get the humor at first but after a while he was able to laugh along with Sam who seemed to love the show. The two went to bed late and the ex-HYDRA-agent was woken up early (around 7 am) by a delicious smell coming from the living room.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Sam noticed. He was in a grey sweater and shorts and his skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat. “I went out for a run. Helps me think,” he explained, “Figured I’d bring some donuts and shit for breakfast.”

“Oh my God, you’re an Angel,” said Bucky.

“Well, that’s just how I am, I guess,” Sam laughed, “Help yourself, imma just take a quick shower. Be right back.”

Saying this, Sam turned and walked towards the bathroom door, already taking of the sweater and Bucky’s breath hitched.

He had seen naked (or half naked) men before, beautiful men, including Steve after his transformation, but he had never seen a man _this_ beautiful before. Everything looked just _perfect._ The way the muscles on Sam’s back worked when he lifted his arms to tear off the soaked shirt. It made his skin look like melted chocolate and Bucky tried to imagine how it would be to touch it, smell it, _taste_ it, how the muscles would feel under his fingers and lips. And then he pictured Sam over him, both entirely naked and glistening with sweat. He pictured his hands roaming over Sam’s back, memorizing every detail on skin, as he wrapped his legs around the other man’s waist, pulling him as close as possible and never letting him go.

“Nng!” Bucky almost couldn’t silence the moan that tried to escape his throat. Luckily, Sam had already closed the bathroom door and therefore missed Bucky’s _moment of weakness_.

 _‘Shit, that was close,’_ Bucky thought shaking his head. This couldn’t happen again. He shouldn’t be daydreaming of his roommate. _Fuck_ , he shouldn’t be dreaming of his roommate _at all_.

Flustered, he eyed the take-away breakfast that Sam had left on the table. Then he remembered that they would go shopping today and figured that it would be the best for everybody if he wiped all those dirty thoughts out of his mind by taking an ice-cold shower as well.

They went shopping in the afternoon as they had planned the day before. For Bucky, it was a little scary. He had never really been in a 21st century clothes shop. (Well… maybe once or twice… but definitely NOT _with_ someone who could _judge_ him!) And there he was. With Sam. His unrequited crush. And the brunette DEFINITELY. DIDN’T. PLAN. ON. EMBARASSING. HIMSELF. Again. But of course, the universe was engaged otherwise…

“Hey James, try these on!”, called Sam holding up a pair of black jeans, “I remember that Steve used to like ‘em. Form fitting.”

This was the sixth pair (maybe) that Sam made him try on and he still had not found one that fitted him well. Most of them made the former sergeant look like a homeless dwarf that looked for pants in a giant’s thrift shop (Sam’s words). They were just too loose. However, this pair was different. It was tighter (and stretchier) and as Bucky looked into the mirror of the fitting room, he could tell that they showed off his muscular legs (and ass).

"Okay, sexy face!", Sam called from the other side of the curtain that separated them, "Show me what you got."

Ducking his head, Bucky pushed the thick, grey fabric to the side and stepped out of the cabin.

"Ay! Mr. White Wolf _sir_! You look like you came out of a Levi's commercial. Turn around for me, please."

Blushing, the brunette did as he was told. He could practically feel Sam's eyes burning holes into his back (or more likely his ass). Did Sam really ask him for permission to check him out? Maybe there was a chance that Sam was interes- _no! Control yourself, Barnes!_ The feeling from earlier ( ~~arousal?~~ ) started to spread in his lower abdomen, which was why he turned back to Sam quickly. He needed to control himself ( ~~and his needs~~ ) when he was around Sam.

"So... what do you think?", he asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"I think you could attract all the ladies within a ten-mile distance, my friend." Nope, Sam was not interested...

Bucky faked a laugh. _'Yeah... all the ladies...'_.

They continued their "shopping tour" and eventually discovered that they had the same shirt size (if you considered that Sam preferred to show off his muscular upper body while Bucky liked the loose fit around his freshly healed shoulder).

Eventually, they bought three jeans for Bucky and some shirts and sweaters for both of them. After that they went to a grocery store.

On their drive back home in Sharon’s car (Thank you, Sharon.) Bucky asked, “Are you gonna sign the new accords?”

He heard Sam sigh next to him and saw his grip on the steering wheel tighten. “I dunno…”, the ex-pararescue murmured.

They drove in silence for a few minutes until they reached a red light and Bucky said, “Do you wanna know what I’d do?”

Sam hummed in response.

“Sign ‘em.”

“But I am Capt-“, Sam began but was interrupted by the ex-HYDRA-agent immediately.

“You’re Captain America now. I know. But…”, he took a second to think of the right words, “Isn’t that why you should do the best for this country?”

“Is signing the Accords the best?”, Sam questioned.

“Well… think about what happens if you decide not to sign them.” Bucky carefully watched the other man from the side. “See? They’d probably forbid you to be Captain America or the Falcon anymore… or even put you into prison. I think not signing the Accords would be a step back. You would make the same mistake as Stevie back in 2016, so-“

“Wait, what?”, Sam interrupted him, “You think that Steve should have signed the Accords?”

“Yes,” Bucky answered and continued quickly before Sam could say something, “I know that he was not okay with the thought of the government controlling the Avengers but… as far as I know the Avengers also made many mistakes that led to this, didn’t they? And the government just wanted them to act more thoughtful and less reckless. I guess… And I know that Steve also wanted to protect me but looking back I think he should have done it with Tony Stark and not against him. And… I never thought about this before but now I wonder what would have happened, if Steve and Tony Stark didn’t get into this huge fight back then…”

“You mean Thanos?”, asked Sam and Bucky nodded and although he knew that Sam didn’t see it, having his eyes on the street, he was sure that he had thought of the same thing. Maybe they would have won, if they had put their differences aside and fought together for the world.

“I see it like this,” began Bucky, “There are two outcomes of this situation. One. You sign the Accords and become an official member of the Avengers again so that you can help people. Two. You don’t sign the Accords and ideally live a normal life with much less impact on practically anything. Maybe you would still help people but in a much smaller frame. And as far as I’m concerned, I don’t think that part of being Captain America is refusing to work with the governments and despise powerful people. I think that this is just how Stevie is sometimes. But you’re not Steve, Sam. You’re different. Which is also why Steve wanted you to be Captain America. He made mistakes and now the world needs someone who doesn’t make them again. And that someone is you, Sam.”

After a few long seconds in silence Sam spoke up, “Wow… that was… sappy.” He laughed shortly.

“No, it’s not! But it’s true.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody!  
> I hope that you enjoyed the first chapter of my very first fanfiction.  
> Since English in not my first language I would be grateful if you corrected me in the commands down below or just sent me a private message via Tumblr (beezelarts) :D


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